The Tournaments
by DeKarbon
Summary: The beginning of a story that will take you through the tournaments seen from the eyes of a man named Mikhail.
1. Chapter 1

Unreal Tournament Chapter I

Mikhail sat on the bench in front of his locker in the ready room for the tourney preliminaries, staring at the holoscreen on the wall. Nighteye ripped Stargazer apart with the Flak Cannon again. Even though there was no audio for the damn holoscreen, he knew that they were taunting each other, like they had before the match near the vending machine. Mik never liked talk, because that was all it really was. Talk.  
Finally, Nighteye made his last kill of the match, and they were transported back to the area where the arena was selected. Mik stood up and walked toward the door and passed Nighteye when he was walking down the hallway. Nighteye had an air of confidence around him, and that made Mikhail's blood lust go crazy. He heard his name and his opponent's name, Janice, coming from the speakers after Mik had stepped up onto the platform.  
He glanced around the room and saw the fans going wild. He couldn't help but grin wickedly as he heard them chant his nickname. 'Blood,' they called him because every match after his last kill, he would smear his opponents blood across his face. He may have been known around this small area, but he wasn't really 'good' enough to be part of one of the greatest teams in the tournaments.  
Finally, his opponent walked up onto the platform. She was a beautiful woman, and Mik found that he was somewhat attracted to her sexually. The crowd grew silent as the announcers chose their arena. "Hope you're ready to die, Mikhail," Janice said just before they were teleported to the map. As soon as he spawned, he looked around and spotted the link gun. He dove for it and looked for more weapons. He picked up a couple of link charges and clipped them onto his belt.  
Mik sprinted up an incline and grabbed the bio rifle at the top. It wasn't the most powerful weapon on this map, but it might come in handy if he got caught in a hallway. He ran up another incline and picked up a shield pack. Then he looked around the area to see if he could find any trace of Janice. He heard a small explosion and whipped himself around to see what it was. Janice was standing atop the first incline and lobbing assault rifle grenades at him. One hit him and exploded on impact, taking out the shield he had just picked up.  
He rolled to the left and came up, firing his link gun the enitre time. Half the bolts missed and he emptied the charge pack, so he slapped a fresh one into the receiver. He switched to secondary firing mode and shot a beam of energy at her. She managed to dodge the beam for a short time, then she began to slow down and was burned through by the beam. The charge hadn't been emptied completely, but Mik decided to slap his last fresh one into the gun. He needed more ammo and more weapons. Then he spotted the minigun a few feet to the left of him. He dove for it and grabbed it.  
Then his health began to drop rapidly as he took rounds from an assault rifle. Mik whipped himself around again and mashed down the trigger for the weapon. It spun up for a few seconds, then spat out bullets at a high rate of speed. He quickly mowed down Janice and decided to take her assault rifle so he could duel wield them. He reloaded the rifle he had picked up from her and gripped it in his left hand.  
He sprinted across the bridge between two Albatross statues and jumped down into the small hallway. He nearly tripped over a loose stone in the darkness. Mik noticed a mega shield pack and picked it up. Then he noticed a lightning gun ontop of a ledge and climbed up to it. As soon as he picked it up, he heard a minigun spin up and bullets were soon breaking apart the stones in the wall. He dove for cover, but was soon filled with lead.  
He respawned almost the exact same spot he had the first time and grabbed the link gun, along with the two link charges. This time Mikhail jumped over the small stream and headed into another dark hallway. He spotted Janice's silhouette against the slightly brighter wall and sprayed it with link bolts. He smelled burnt flesh and saw her body fall to the ground. He ripped the empty charge pack away from the gun and slammed a fresh one into it. He heard a rocket launcher being fired, and he soon saw the exhaust trail come closer to him. The rocket lit up the hallway when it exploded, spraying Mik's bodyparts along the walls, floor, and ceiling.  
Mik respawned ontop of the bridge and he jumped down onto the ground below. He looked around for her, but couldn't spot her. Then he heard a second rocket being fired and his gibs are yet again splattered across the ground. Then he spawns right next to the rocket launcher and he picked it up. Just a few feet away, with her back turned, he saw Janice, and fired three rockets at her in a spiral. Her gibs flew at least twenty to twenty-five feet away from where she had died.  
Then his pupils began to dilate and his body began running on pure instinct. He turned his head toward where the link gun was and sprinted at a higher speed than he had ever gone before toward where he knew Janice had just spawned. As soon as he got there, he fired a few rockets at her exposed backside. She flew apart into bits of flesh and organ.  
He ran up the incline and grabbed the bio rifle. Mik ran up the second incline and saw Janice disappear into the dark hallway. He swapped out his rocket launcher for the bio rifle and sprinted in after her. He spotted her and charged up a large blob of the goo. He let go of the trigger and the ball slammed into her, melting through her skin and organ tissues, leaving nothing but bone behind.  
He turned around and dashed out of the hallway, and right into Janice. He tackled her and began to beat her with his fists. He heard her respawn below and used his translocator to get himself down there the fastest. Mik fired his bio rifle continuously into her until there was nothing left but bone and small piles of ash. Then he swapped his bio rifle for his rocket launcher as his eyes darted back and forth looking for Janice.  
He saw a flicker of movement on the far side of the bridge and used his translocator to get up onto the ledge. He put his rocket launcher away and grinned as she started to look around the area. The only place she forgot to look was right behind her. He stealthed his way closer to her and he wrapped his right arm around her neck while his left one wrapped around her chest. He whispered into her ear, "Hello," and she almost collapsed. She would have if Mik didn't have such a tight grip on her. He began to fondle one of her breasts and she began to squirm, letting out soft and nearly unnoticeable moans. Just before he snapped her neck, he slipped his hand down between her legs and began to rub her pussy through the cloth of her pants. He let her body drop and he stepped over it to grab her assault rifle.  
One more kill, he thought, one more kill. He checked to make sure that both of his assault rifles had full clips before he moved across the bridge to where the minigun was. He picked it up and strapped it across his back. He was at the top of the second incline, checking to make sure that there was no one down below, when a rocket impacted near him and he was sent sprawling on the ground. He quickly picked himself up and sprinted away from the area. He unstrapped his minigun and crouched next to a rock for cover.  
She came walking up the incline, looking angry and cautious at the same time. She regularly checked behind her, so he couldn't sneak up on her again. He depressed the trigger and the minigun spun up for a few seconds before a wall of bullets impacted Janice. He dropped the minigun and walked up to her body. He punctured her flesh with a hand and made sure that it was slick with blood before he pulled it out. He took two fingers and smeared some of the blood across his forehead and his chest plate.  
A few seconds later he is teleported back onto the platform. He grins wickedly at Janice as she stares at him with hateful eyes. His grin fades as he walks away from the platform. He heard the announcers say something, but he couldn't understand what they said. 'Prolly something about what I did on the ninth kill, he thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Unreal Tournament Chapter II  
Internal Demons Unveiled

Mikhail had nearly fallen asleep on his way back to his apartment. He was so tired. All he wanted to do was sleep so he could have enough energy for his next match. He shouldn't have spent those last few hours at the damn bar. When he finally reached his apartment parking lot, he nearly slammed into another hover car as he parked. He wondered how tired Janice was right now, since he had seen her at the bar. At least he had seen her until he had gotten drunk.  
Right now, he wondered if he was ever going to actually get into his apartment. Being tired and half drunk wasn't really all too good of a combination. He nearly collapsed on his way to his door. He had barely been able to pick himself up. When he finally reached his door, he fumbled with the key card. Mik nearly broke the card as he slammed it into a small part of the wall above the slot. He got it on the second try and the door slid up into the ceiling. He shambled through the doorway and forgot to lock the door. All he cared about right now was finally going to only pieces of armor that he bothered to take off was the upper body armor. He fell onto his bed, half asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.  
He woke up at around two o'clock with a start. He was bathed in a cold sweat. He knew that he probably wouldn't get back to sleep, but he had to try so he could have enough energy for his next match. As he lay in bed, he wondered why he had woken up. It wasn't a dream, because he rarely had those anymore. Mik sat back up and looked around the room for something that may have fallen or something like that. He noticed a dark figure sitting against the wall near the door to his bedroom. He decided not to waste anymore energy and find out who or what it was in the morning. Or whenever he woke up.  
Mikhail shot up as he heard his alarm clock beep.... Since when did I have an alarm clock? he thought. He nearly smashed the damn thing trying to get it to turn off. Once he had finally accomplished that task, he remembered the thing near the door and twisted his head around to see if it was still there. As he thought it would be, it was gone. Most likely some person that let themselves in last night, he thought. He lay back down and actually looked at the time on the clock. It was around nine o'clock. He had three hours until his next match at noon.  
He got up and out of bed and realized that someone had taken off the rest of his armor. He ignored that fact and went to the refresher. He took a cold shower to wake himself up. He dressed himself in a skintight, black, undershirt and dark grey cargo pants. He went back into his bedroom and grabbed his helmet. It reminded him of his first few matches, the only ones when he had actually worn the damn thing. He remembered how comfortable it had been to wear into combat. Then a few more distant memories drifted to the front of his mind, and he forcibly shunted them out of his head.  
A low growl drifted up from his throat as even more memories came. All he wanted to do was forget everything about his past and focus on the present. Really the only thing he wanted to remember were the other times he had entered into the tournaments. He had been in the tournaments ever since Malcolm had defeated Xan. He should have went with Xan to train when he had the chance. Even if had gotten killed by the robot, it would definitely be better than the life he was living right now.  
He had been in the top ten before Malcolm and the Thunder Crash came. Brock, Lauren, Malcolm... Xan, even... He hated them all. The ones in Thunder Crash especially. Again, he shunted those thoughts from his mind. He set the helmet into a box specially designed to hold the helmet and kicked it into the back of his closet. At least he hadn't kicked the helmet itself this time. He fell back onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. The tournaments had become boring for him. Each year, he would win the preliminaries, but his team would absolutely suck. The only year he had a good team, years, actually, was before Thunder Crash.  
Everybody had joined Malcolm, Brock, and Lauren, all except one man. But that man had soon retired from the tournaments. The only reason he hadn't joined was because he had been planning on running his own team that year. He sat up and finally got rid of the thoughts. Mik stood up and walked out into the , out of anger, he punched the right side of the doorway to the kitchen and took away a chunk of the wall. He smiled. That would knock out the sliding door for a couple of weeks. Can't wait to harass the repairman, he thought, unless if they send a damned robot. He frowned. Then he decided to take out another piece of the wall. He decided not to wait around the apartment any more and go to the arena, even though there'd be a match going on. It would probably be good to watch something actually entertaining. And it would keep his mind occupied... actually it wouldn't. The only thing that would keep his mind occupied was being drunk.  
"Incoming video call. Number 935-2937, name; Paul Makotes," a female synthetic voice chimed. Before he hit the button to activate the call, he slammed his fist into the screen. "No video. You know I don't like to watch people just standing there with their lips moving." "Guess I forgot. But couldn't you have just deactivated the vid screen instead of destroying it again?" Even though he couldn't see him, Mik knew Paul was smiling. He sighed. "You're lucky. I was just about to leave for my match." He heard Paul snort and Mik couldn't help but smile, "Your match isn't scheduled 'til noon. You have a couple hours." "I know. I just wanted to watch a couple of the rookies. It seems I might have a 'better' team this year." "The emphasis on the word 'better' doesn't make me feel good. What are you going to do to them?"  
Mik grinned wickedly and said, "Same thing I do every year. Hire some newbies, train them and squeeze out the weaklings. It's the best way. You would be a great help, if you weren't retired." There was silence between them for a few moments. "Am I able to come back this year?" Paul finally said. "I can pull some strings to get you into the secondary bracket of the preliminaries, but that's the best I can do. Prize money ain't great--" "It's gotta be better than what I'm getting now." Mik shook his head and wondered what his old friend could be doing that was worse than the secondary brackets of the prelims. "Don't tell me what you're doing right now, because I don't want to know. I'll talk to some of the recruiters. I'll get you in." "Great. At least I get to kill legally again." That raised Mik's eyebrow. Then he said, "Who," as a command rather than a question. "Some guy tried to mug me. Couldn't he realize that I used to be in the Tournaments? Kids today don't know who was their hero back when they were ten years old. That's just sad." "I know. How'd you kill him?" Paul sighed, "Snapped his neck when my arm came swinging around as he tried to stab me. At least that's all I really remember. Some of the witnesses said I even beat up his dead body and ripped it apart. And, apparently, I did, because there wasn't much of his body left to be burned."  
Mik sighed. "Damnit! I know that you'll be able to get into the secondary brackets, but only because of me, and remember; keep everything IN THE ARENA! If I find out you have done anything to anybody outside of the arena, I'm gonna drop you out. Got that?" Paul chuckled, "I'll have to keep everything in the arena, since I'll be kept in a cell near there." "Yeah, well, I don't want any of my teammates in jail, so I'm gonna bail you out. But if you get into trouble again, I won't bail you out and I'll drop you out of the tournaments. I gotta go now. I'll see what I can do for you." Mik deactivated the phone and shut it down for good.  
He liked to ruin things at the expense of other people's happiness. He grabbed his armor and put it on, one piece at a time. Paul could piss him off a lot some of the time, but he couldn't stay mad at him for long. There was just something about the man that made him so likable. He decided to take his helmet with him in a duffel bag. It was time to use it again. He strapped the duffel over his shoulder and walked out the door. He decided to leave it unlocked on purpose so the place would most likely be destroyed by the time he got back. Or if he got lucky, everything would be stolen. He tossed the duffel bag into the passenger's seat and slid himself into the driver's seat of the hover car. He hit the ignition key and drove wildly around the parking lot before heading off in the direction of the arena.  
He decided to wait until after he had gotten Paul into the tournaments to bail him out. I'll bail him out after my match, he thought. That might take a while. He walked into the ready room and over toward his locker when he heard shouting over by the holoscreen. He returned his attention to his locker and entered the combination. He opened it and shoved the duffel bag into it. Mik looked over his shoulder at the holoscreen and it showed Nighteye, Kain, and Phantom going at it on Spirit. He glanced at his wrist watch and it said 9:34. He had a couple hours left before his match still. And it might pay to watch Nighteye, since Mik was planning to hire him onto his team this year. He walked up toward the holoscreen and tried to get a view of the match.  
The entire group was composed of mostly rookies, except for a few more experienced ones. As far as Mik could tell, he was the oldest and had the most experience out of the entire group watching the screen. He looked at the score and read "Nighteye is in the lead with nine kills!" Damn, he thought, it's almost over. He stared at the screen as it finally showed Nighteye as he fired his shock rifle at Phantom, and, in return, Phantom fired his lightning gun at Nighteye. One lightning bolt connected with Nighteye's chest, which immediately burst into flames as the extreme heat generated by the bolt burned his fur. Then one shock round connected with Phantom's head, making Nighteye's tenth kill. He watched the wolf fall backwards, his chest still aflame. He looked over his shoulder and followed a team of medics with his gaze to the arena floor.  
He turned away from the screen and walked back to his locker. He grabbed the lock and pressed his hand tightly around it. If he couldn't destroy it by his strength alone, his willpower would at least aid as he closed his eyes. His head slumped forward and his hand slipped away from the lock, revealing it only partially crushed. His hand landed on his knee and his head finally connected with the locker door. Inside his anger and hatred swelled around.  
He woke up around two hours later, his eyes shooting open and burning with hatred. This had been a trance he could easily slip into and it helped him find the energy to continue on through the tournaments. All he had to do was forcefully 'fall asleep' and only bring thoughts and dreams of his parents and former friends. He made sure that he kept up the constant flow of those thoughts throughout his match. This had been the thing that made him a sort of legend in the tournaments. It had made him Most Ruthless Player of the Year once. This was supposed to be a ruthless sport, but the way he played was usually against the regulations.  
He stood up and ripped the lock away from the locker, permanently destroying it. Mik ripped the locker open and grabbed the duffel bag inside. He grabbed it at it's sides and began to stretch it past it's limit. The nylon strands tore under the force of Mik's pulling. The box inside fell to the ground and nearly cracked, but didn't. He raised his fist and slammed it down onto the crate, splitting it into thousands of fragments. He picked up the helmet and slid it over his head. The visor immediately warmed and showed his biosigns, armor strength, ammo, and weapons. The only reason he was wearing the helmet was because it was the only way to hide his eyes from the guards.  
They had been told to watch for him and his ability to control his anger in very destructive ways.  
He had just about half an hour before his match, so the trance might wear off a little before the match before his would finish. Other than that, he would definitely win. He walked toward the hallway to the arena floor and stopped at the entranceway. Mainly because there were guards that prevented any other contestants from going out to screw up the match. The other reason was because he had to maintain the steady flow of thoughts in order to keep the trance working. And he wanted to be the first one out there.  
He stood and waited for about thirteen minutes before one of his opponents approached him. He stood next to him and watched him with the corner of his just stood there, nearly oblivious to the man standing next to him. Several minutes passed before Mik's opponent said, "What are you doing?" in a low whisper. Those words nearly brought him out of his trance. In as low of a whisper as possible, Mik said "If you wish to live, please go. If you bring me out of my trance now, you will surely die before you can even let out a scream." He felt the man take a step farther away from Mikhail, and he had enough sense to not say anything back at him. At least one of his opponents was smart. He hadn't met the other one yet. And he hoped he wouldn't before the match, because he had to stay in the tournaments. Soon he was able to slip back into the trance.  
Then he felt a presence walking up to him with an aura of anger and hatred about it. He couldn't tell whether this one was male or female. He felt that she had the intent of stirring him and trash talking him. If she was able to complete this objective, she would be killed almost instantly, as would everyone near him. Then he felt a strong presence step in front of him to stop the other person. He could tell that this one was his first opponent. He heard a female yell, "Out of my way! He needs to be woken up!" "I wouldn't really advise that. He needs to finish up first." "Finish what?" Mik opened his eyes and the reddish-black sheen was so bright that the woman could see them through the black visor. Her eye's widened and she was nearly paralyzed in fear as she took a step backwards.  
Several other combatants noticed the small amount of light as it quickly faded... and so did some of the guards. As the sheen finally faded back into his normal blueish-green eyes, his pose slackened a bit so he wasn't standing completely straight. He felt his senses had been amplified ten times what they had been. He could hear a whisper up to 30 meters away. He could feel the presence and the unique feel of everyone in the room. Mik could make out the details of an eye at very long distances. There really wasn't much that could hide from him now. Except for an animal itself, like a wolf. If he could do this for every match, he would only have Nighteye as a rival.  
Finally, Mikhail and the other two were called into the main room. He didn't really care what his opponent's names were, since this was really the last time he would see them. They came in right after Mikhail did, and they were soon transported to Tokara Forest. His eyes darted around like fireflies, taking in every detail they could. He smelled the scent of the tree's emerald lifeblood. He saw small dots of light falling from the tree tops. He heard the small chirps of crickets and grasshoppers. It was time to kill.


	3. Chapter 3

Unreal Tournament  
Chapter III

Mik watched from behind the tree. A rocket exploded in a ball of fire near the trunk. He smiled and waited for the second and third. He popped his head around the other side of the trunk and two bullets passed through the barrel of his sniper rifle in rapid succession. The head of the man nearly exploded. He couldn't have wished for a better shot.  
Most people aimed for the center, between the eyes, of the head. Mik didn't know why, but he always liked to shoot the right eye. He just felt it was more fun. The grass in front of him was torn apart as a minigun roared. Mik moved as fast as his feet would carry him. He ran towards the shooter and whipped out his flak gun.  
The chest exploded inward and completely disintegrated. He felt the bullets in his gut, and launched an assault rifle grenade with his left hand at what he thought had been moving. His HUD registered he got another kill. He checked his kill count and started laughing mirthlessly.  
243. There was no kill limit, just a set time limit. And it was barely half way through. He knew it wouldn't last, and he would start to get sloppy as he waited for the game to finish. It was amazing. The longest streak he had ever maintained before was 98, and he now had one going at 167.  
A sniper rifle cracked and Mik rolled away. Dirt exploded and Mik ran for cover. He smiled and decided on his assault rifle. He popped his head out from cover, then ducked back down as the bullets came. Not from a sniper, but another assault rifle. What an idiot.  
Mik stood up and sprayed bullets and grenades at the figure rushing toward him. Once that was dealt with, he popped out the mag and slid another one home. Mik slid out of cover and took aim at the sniper. He fired a burst and watched the sniper's body fall form it's perch. He ran out into the open, stopped and stood there until the bullets came.  
He dodged a few, and took a few at the same time. He turned the anger and pain into focus and sprayed bullets into the brush with his minigun. A female voice said through his helmet speaker, "Five minutes left."  
Now he needed to make at least another hundred kills, to finish the match off with a broken record of a kill streak. At least 200 or so would do. He actively searched the battlefield for his opponents, and they hid. Damn them! Mik started to go crazy. He actually started using the jump pads and jumping down from the walkways. Hr was definitely not trying to give the fuckers that called themselves opponents a great big bullseye on his ass, so they took the message and didn't even fire a single shot at him.  
Rather, they started shooting at each other. They knew they wouldn't win against Mik, so they needed to at least compare to him in the match. The woman actually got a five kill streak until Mik killed her. Which had taken him at least a minute, since she wouldn't stop running.  
Now it was time to go stealth on em and find a good perch to hide in. He found a perfect on behind a tree on the ground. He lied down and closed his eyes, thinking solely of his parents neglecting him and getting what they deserved when SWAT busted in and killed them. 'Accidentally' as they claim.  
It ended up a good thing, as they would definitely never be able to traffic drugs or sex slaves any more. And because they would have found Mik down in the basement. Strapped in the 'machine.' Mik's face twisted and he started to chuckle.  
He decided now would be a good time to test the new infiltration software in his helmet. He broadcast his laughter across the channel that was reserved for the announcers and waited for the match to end so he could be arrested on the grounds that he was in possession of blah, blah, blah...  
Damn, he needed a cigarette. That was when the idiots popped their stinking heads out which were quickly popped off by Mik. Two up from the 194 streak that was now a record breaker. Seven more would do. That way he'd be over 200, and have a sufficient gap between previous and new.  
He waited on top of a ledge. Three seconds later, one of them walked by him. She routinely looked over her shoulder which meant that she was either searching for them, or running away from the other one. He decided to watch her, so he grabbed his sniper rifle and aimed at her. He used his scope to watch her as she slumped down.  
"Two minutes left." The announcement fell upon deaf ears. Now he noticed the costume that she was wearing was very revealing. He didn't venture to look at the individual features, though, as that would be a distraction. She lay there as though there wasn't a match going on, and acted like it too. He decided against ruining her moment for her, and went on to searching the battlefield for the other one.  
"One minute left."  
Damn it!  
He fueled his rage with thoughts of himself murdering his parents. And for the first time in years, he felt happiness. Which threw him off. He shook his head quickly, but he couldn't shake it. He wanted to cry and smile at the same time, as he was in his mind. Standing on top of his parent's bodies.  
He shuddered with joy. He squeezed his hand and accidentally pulled the trigger. He nailed the woman in the chest, taking away most of it. She instantly died.  
"Five.... Four.... Three... Two... One." Mik lay there on the ground. He chuckled, then took in a deep breath. Two guards were at the entrance to the hallway. Mik's jaw twitched. He reached up to take his helmet off and saw the guards tense up and tighten their grips on their rifles. When he removed the helmet, the guards and even his former opponents tensed up. For the guards it was going into near shock.  
He looked around at their faces. He lifted up his helmet so the reflective visor would be his mirror, and he went into near shock as well. Blood was coming out of the corners of his mouth and ran down in a streak from above his hairline, and tears were streaming down his face. He barely reacted physically to any of it. He just slid the helmet back on and walked toward the guards.  
Then he looked down at what he thought would be his stomach. It was ripped to shreds. He felt horrible and decided to lift a hand to feel it, then he noticed he was missing a few fingers. Damn! His anger rose, and he swallowed it. The only problem with the respawning units was that if the damage had occurred and the person had not respawned, the damage would be there forever.  
He felt like falling down right there, in a pool of his own blood, letting the guards take him into the infirmary.. But that was totally against his personality and he kept walking. He held his hands up to one of the guards, and, seeing the guard not register what he was doing, Mik grabbed a set of stasis cuffs and slapped them on.  
He stood between them and held out his arms for them to grab and take him to the infirmary. At least one of the guards got it. The other just stood there and watched them leave. Mik started top chuckle, which ended up in him coughing up a bit of blood into his helmet.  
Mik told the guard, "Take my helmet off and have it cleaned. Or sell it, I really don't care. It'll catch quite a bit on the markets with real warrior's blood in it." The guard didn't register any of it. "I said take it off!"  
"Prisoner's are in no position to make demands, especially in the condition you're in."  
"Never underestimate Mikhail Karchnychev."  
"Yeah, yeah. That's what they all say."  
Mik started to laugh very loudly and actually lasted for a total of eight seconds, then started on a seemingly endless coughing spree.  
"How about requests?"  
"That, they can do."  
"The helmet needs to come off, or I won't see my 'interviewer.' And I know that that is total disrespect for you guys."  
"Yeah. The medics won't appreciate it either."  
"Huh. I thought we were talking about the medics." The guard smiled and chuckled a little.  
"So you gonna help me with the helmet or not?"  
The guard let go of him to pull the helmet off. To the guards surprise, Mik didn't do a thing. The guard looked inside the helmet and cursed. "You weren't kidding. You can't see shit outta' that visor."  
Mik just smiled and walked on, leaving a blood trail in his wake. More like a blood wake in his trail. The blood seemingly spread out from where it had initially landed. It was almost a solid line from the pool of blood to the infirmary bed. The medics had tried to put him under for the 'healing' process, but the anesthesia but it had failed miserably so Mik soon went into shock.  
A definite surprise as he had walked all the way to the infirmary with the wounds and didn't suffer from anything but disbelief. Which was definitely uncommon. His jaw clenched, unclenched and twitched all through the surgery. He rolled his head over and saw the yellow eyes of a wolf.


End file.
